


Adultery

by andromedasgalaxy



Category: Father Brown (2013)
Genre: Adultery, Cheating, F/M, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Reader-Insert, You don't need a morality lesson from me, i'm just doing a fic, obviously I'm not condoning cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:47:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26857672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedasgalaxy/pseuds/andromedasgalaxy
Summary: Sometimes things don't work out the way you want, luckily Hercule Flambeau doesn't care all too much about the morality of sleeping with a married woman, at least, not when it's you.Kinktober prompt: AdulteryCross posted on tumblr under thegildedquill.
Relationships: M. Hercule Flambeau/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Adultery

He was back. It shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did, you knew all too well that his friendship with Father Brown was one of the few genuine connections he cared about. But still, the sight of him standing there, across the street in his usual splendour surprised you. His suit was tailored, light and almost jaunty, yet fitting so perfectly that he would have stood out in a crowd of a thousand. The beard was new, but it suited him, and you couldn’t help yourself from stopping suddenly to admire it. He looked good, and judging by the way he was standing, he knew it.

But, if the surprise of seeing him had you startled, it was nothing to the shock he felt when he noticed the ring on your hand. The wedding ring was large, gaudy even, shining in the daylight in an obnoxious manner; a show of ownership, not love. It was a sign of the relationship you had with your new husband, loud and for the public’s eye, and utterly lacking in any form of genuine connection. But you didn’t have a choice, the blasted man had known that when he asked for your hand, taking advantage of your suddenly precarious financial situation and offering to be your very own knight in shining armour _for a price._

Still, Flambeau didn’t let it show just how much the sight shocked him. He would never be one to give himself up to his emotions, especially now, with the sight of the one person he truly cared for the _wife_ of another.

It didn’t take long for him to find you alone, in your new house at that. Nor did it take long for you to find yourself with an ever decreasing amount of clothing as he worshipped your body in a way no other could ever compare to.

Perhaps you would have had qualms, had your marriage been one of love. Perhaps you would have at least _questioned_ if it was right to feel this good with his hands on your body. But this was not some stranger you had met at a bar, this was the man you adored, the one man you loved with your entire being, and the one man you were certain could never have _truly_ been yours, even without your marriage in the way.

Hercule’s lips felt like coming home, familiar yet exciting, and so much more than your memory had been able to produce in your wildest imaginations. His kiss trailed over your neck, finding the sensitive skin there with ease, before running his tongue over it so very gently. He knew the affect he had on you, and he was clearly trying to make a point with each careful movement. But it was a point he hardly needed to push. You knew all too well that he was the only man for you, that your marriage was one of requirement and not passion or even love.

Your mouth fell open as he ran light kisses over the exposed skin of your collar bone, his nimble fingers removing even more clothing with ease as he moved against you. 

“Tell me,” his voice was low, you could feel the words reverberating against your skin as he pressed a soft kiss against you before glancing up to meet your curious gaze, determined to have your full attention before he continued. “Does he make you feel the way I do?”

The question was easy, and had you shaking your head before he had even finished speaking, desperate to reassure him. Your husband may like to think he was a great many things, but he had _nothing_ on the feel of Hercule’s lips on yours, he had nothing on the way Hercule could bring you to the edge with such ease, could have you falling into bliss alongside him. 

“When I touch myself-” you paused, surprised to find the words falling so readily from your lips. But you were always so eager to please him, so happy to oblige when he wanted something, _anything_ from you. You could feel the blush heating your cheeks, shocked at the dirty words coming from you, despite your position. But he was patient, annoyingly so. He stopped his movements, coming up above you to hover just out of reach, egging you on, curious to hear what you were thinking.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, drawing his attention to the sorely neglected spot before you were swallowing, desperate to relieve yourself from your suddenly dry mouth. “When I touch myself, I think of you.”

A wicked smirk made its way to his lips, his eyes lighting up in satisfaction as a low growl came from deep within him. The sound was primal and savage, and it had you nearly moaning in return. And before you knew it, you were speaking once more, in a desperate hope to hear it again. “And when I’m with him, it’s still _you_.”


End file.
